


Spectator

by Apparentlynotreallyfinnish



Series: Kinktober 2019 [6]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Kinda, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 05:20:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21030890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apparentlynotreallyfinnish/pseuds/Apparentlynotreallyfinnish
Summary: Rhett's gone back to their office late at night to look for his missing wallet. But what he finds there is something much more valuable.





	Spectator

The office is eerily silent. Rhett walks through the shadows, not bothering to turn on any lights; he knows the way. He’s anxious. He’s been in a constant state of panic since he noticed that his wallet was nowhere to be found.

What if the wallet is not on his desk? What if he’s actually lost it? He definitely doesn’t want to deal with that right now – with the book tour starting and all of their other unfinished projects crowding his mind.

Rhett picks up his pace, rounds a corner and is about to step into their shared office when he hears it.

A low moan echoes from the office.

Rhett stops dead, hand hovering near the cracked door. He tilts his head and listens. It’s silent again and he’s almost convinced himself that he’d imagined it when he hears it again.

“_Oh my gosh..._” The words are drawn-out and shaky.

Rhett’s skin electrifies and his heart gallops into a beat so fast he’s afraid he might faint. He knows that voice. He’d recognise it in his sleep; he’d be able to pick it out from a crowd of dozens. It’s the voice of his best friend. 

Link is moaning in their office.

Rhett shuffles his feet, takes a hesitant step back, tries to force himself to turn and leave. He knows it would be the right thing to do. But it’s like he’s drawn towards the door.

He doesn’t actually make a decision – at least not consciously – suddenly, he just finds himself pushing on the door. He’s not opening it all the way, just a bit more, just enough to see into the office. 

Link is on the couch. The office is bathed in a bluish flickering light coming from Link’s laptop. No other lights are on. Faint sounds are coming from the laptop, but Rhett can’t see the screen. Honestly, he doesn’t care what Link’s watching. Because all Rhett can focus on, is the fact that Link is naked from the waist down. His button-down hangs open and loose on him, revealing a strip of chest and stomach and his pants are laying crumpled on the floor next to his feet.

Link is touching himself.

Rhett swallows and closes his eyes – he even turns his head towards the ceiling for good measure. He needs to go. Right the fuck now! He needs to turn and walk back to his car and forget he ever came here. He has no desire to see this. This is private. This is personal. Looking any longer would be a glaring violation.

Rhett’s gaze drops down and wanders back into their office.

Link is staring at the laptop, jaw hanging slack, tongue poking out just so. His glasses have slipped down his nose and teeter precariously on the tip of it. His hair is messy, curls of salt and pepper dropping down on his forehead. He’s breathing fast and shallow, chest rising and falling in short bursts.

Rhett gives himself permission to stare at Link’s face. That’s fine, right? He sees that face nearly every day. There’s nothing wrong with looking at Link’s mouth opening into another low moan. 

What Rhett is not looking at, is the impossibly hard cock laying against Link’s stomach; tinted purple by the laptop’s glow and glistening with what has to be some kind of lubrication. Link’s hand is wrapped around the base of it.

Rhett’s not looking, and while he is not looking, he’s definitely not getting hard.

Link’s tongue moves and wets his upper lip. He closes his eyes for a beat and gives his cock a long, slow stroke that draws a sound from him that makes Rhett shiver all over. It’s as if Link’s giving in and holding out all at the same time; like he’s waited weeks to do this and now that he’s finally touching himself, it's simultaneously too much and not enough.

Rhett swallows a moan of his own and leans against the door frame, partly to stay upright on his trembling legs, partly to see better. All the pretending has been washed away by the decadent sound Link just made. Rhett is unabashedly watching now. He’s a man possessed; eyes trained on the silky smooth head of Link’s cock that Link is now teasing with his fingertips. He’s squirming in his seat, hips rolling as he taunts himself. He’s breathing audibly, occasional breaths morphing into quiet moans and whimpers.

“Please,” Link whines, eyes closing again. His hips rise from the couch as he chases his own touch. He pleads with himself; begs for that proper pressure his throbbing cock so obviously craves.

Rhett swallows hard and gives himself the thing Link needs the most. Rhett’s palm presses against the growing bulge in his jeans. His mouth opens to a silent groan as the sweet pressure makes his cock pulse against his hand.

Link’s still teasing himself; running his fingers up and down his thighs, gently cupping his balls, stroking his length with his fingertips. The sounds these touches draw from him make Rhett weak at the knees and force him to pop open the button of his jeans. It barely takes him the length of a heartbeat to pull out his cock and give it a few good, tight tugs. He has to bite on his tongue not to moan out loud.

Link leans forward, quickly taps on the laptop and then settles back into his earlier position, hand still wrapped around his dick. He’s swaying on the couch, backwards and forwards, and biting his bottom lip. Periodically, his eyes flutter closed and he lets out a wrecked moan.

Rhett leaves his cock unattended for a moment and lifts his palm up to his lips to spit on it. Soon he’s slicked up and throbbing in his fist again. He strokes slowly, fighting the need to verbalize the pleasure.

Link has no such reservations. He’s moaning up a storm as the movements of his hips quicken.

“Oh God! Yes. Oh yes... Just like that. You fill me up so nice. Oh! I – Ah, fuck...” Link’s muttering as he rocks back and forth against the leather of the couch. He’s still not moving his hand and Rhett frowns at the display. How is he getting so worked up without stroking himself?

Then suddenly, Link shifts; his body falls backwards and he pushes his legs up against the coffee table revealing his ass. A wave of heat crashes over Rhett and his vision blurs at the display in front of him. Between Link’s smooth, tight ass cheeks is a foreign object; a glint of round metal catches Rhett’s eye. It takes him a beat to realize what it means.

Link is _plugged_.

Rhett’s hand quickens and he can’t stop himself anymore. A ragged breath comes out as a desperate moan.

“Fuck,” Rhett mutters and fucks into his spit-slicked fist. He’s forgotten that he’s supposed to be a silent observer. He’s forgotten Link has no idea he has an audience. His brain is crowded with filth and he basks in the heat of it all. 

He imagines himself stepping into the room, pulling the plug out and replacing it with his own length. He imagines the surprise on Link’s face morphing into pure pleasure. He imagines Link whines as he slips in, thrusts deep. He imagines Link coming all over him while crying out his name. Rhett’s beyond reckless; he growls, loud and wanton.

But Link isn’t hearing him. He’s in his own bubble of pleasure. He’s moved his hand between his legs and is pressing on the plug, bucking his hips in almost delirious desperation. He’s stroking himself now, his hand a blur on his cock as he chases his orgasm. He draws a shaky breath and then he’s speaking again. And the words spilling out of him make Rhett’s fantasy and reality clash in a way he could have never predicted.

“Fuck! Rhett! Yeah, baby, just like that. Give it to me. Fuck me harder!“

That’s all Rhett needs. His orgasm slams into him with such force that it almost knocks him off his feet. His head thuds painfully against the doorframe as his cock pulses on his hand, spewing string after string of pearly white come onto their office door. His legs are trembling and he has to hold onto the door with his other hand to stay up.

The sweet, sweet high lasts barely a moment before he realizes that Link has gone silent. 

All he can hear now are the voices coming from the laptop and he suddenly recognises his own – Link is watching their show.

Rhett knows he’s been caught, but he can’t bring himself to look. He’ll gladly exist in the in-between for a little while longer. Their relationship has decidedly changed because of what’s just happened, but how? Neither of them knows yet, and Rhett’s too afraid to find out.

“Rhett?” Link’s voice is small and pleading and wrenches at Rhett’s heart. He finally musters up the courage to look inside. Link’s sitting on the couch, back straight, hand covering his erection. He looks at Rhett in disbelief as Rhett steps into the room tucking the evidence of his indiscretion back into his pants.

They stare at each other for a moment. The world spirals around them, twists and turns, as they settle into their new reality.

Then Rhett takes a deep breath, steps forward and asks: “Need a hand?”


End file.
